He nodded and headed towards the bed, turning down the covers. They looked like silky sheets, making me look forward to trying them.
I rushed into the bathroom, and changed quickly out of my day clothes and into my nightgown. I hesitated, debating if I should remove my panties too, and decided to just do it.
When I emerged from the bathroom, Devareaux was lying on his side, propped up on his arm, shirtless and wearing sweatpants. His naked chest made me want to run my hands, and tongue, over it as I noticed his sweatpants looked mighty snug. A plus side to being paired with an aristocrat was the magnificent body structure. This aristocrat was beyond yummy. My mouth watered just at what I could see.
His eyes roamed over my body and appeared to appreciate it. I had felt apprehensive because of course I wasn’t a mid or high blood born. I had hoped that I would meet my partner’s expectations in the bedroom, so here was the true test.
I walked towards the bed in a leisure manner even though I could feel my body shaking. I slowly climbed into the massive bed, and actually sighed.
“Oh. Those feel so nice.” I ran my hand over the silky bed sheets, slightly distracted from the moment. Realizing I had spent a little too much time admiring the bed sheets, I glanced up at Devareaux who was smirking at me.
I bowed my head in embarrassment. “Sorry.”
He leaned in closer and used his free hand to tip my chin up to meet his eyes. “Do not apologize, my dear wife. I am glad you are able to appreciate the finer things.”
Something about that comment poked at me, but I brushed it aside.
He moved his hand from my chin and reached out, grabbing me around my waist, pulling me quickly to him. I yelped ashe pressed me against his bare chest, making my breath hitch. With the way he was looking at me, my eyes began to flutter.
In a rough whisper, Devareaux said, “I need to taste you. Now, wife.”
I felt my body fold into him, as he laid me down on the bed, brushed my hair away from my neck, making me lean to bare it to him. The movement felt almost automatic. He brushed his hand across my neck, making my hair move and flow out on the pillow underneath me. He licked my neck, causing me to shiver.
“I hope this does not hurt. But I must taste you”
His teeth punctured my skin, making me yelp, whimper, then moan. He cupped his hands around my body as he slid his body next to mine. Then I felt it. A numbing sensation immediately followed by a sense of pure euphoria. The sensation started at the bite mark, and rolled in waves down throughout my body. All my senses were heightened, yet when I tried to move, I could not budge. It was the best pleasure I had ever felt in my life. I felt a warm, soothing, engulfing fullness takeover me. There was a soft humming in my ears as I heard Devareaux moaning against me. I wanted him to touch me, caress me, make love to me. I felt like I was drowning in the pleasure, when I felt him pull back, and whisper, “Sleep now. More to come tomorrow.”
I didn’t understand what that meant, but I soon slipped into the most welcoming darkness.
Chapter 5
Devareaux’s POV
That first night of the taking should have been the most potent of all the takings. But somehow, every time I took the blood with my wife since that night, it was always intense and addicting. I remember that first night like it was yesterday. I had been smelling her blood from the moment she had entered the room at the Facility. I couldn’t get away from it no matter how far away I stood from her. I thought that this would change after taking the blood that first time. It did not.
The second my fangs sank into Odessa, my body started thrumming with pure pleasure. It was more intoxicating than any sexual experience I had ever had. I had to fight to maintain focus because I was afraid to become too overwhelmed, too overcome with her blood. I didn’t know if that was even possible. I had never asked. You don’t ask those things. It was not done. I had felt so out of control, something I had never experienced before. As an aristocrat, you were known for your control. I could not control my thoughts, my wants, around Odessa. At. All.
After I was able to stop myself at what I felt was a good stopping point, I was able to pull back, but that took all of my willpower to do so. She looked satiated, so I knew I had done the right thing by stopping. It took even more of my willpower and control not to tear her nightgown off and take more than her blood that first night. But I could not do that. I would not. I would wait. The next day. The next day we could have sex for the first time. But not during the taking.
That had brought me back to a conversation I had with my father when I was all of 12 years old. As I laid there, with Odessa sleepy in my arms, I recalled that awkward conversation. I had heard something at my private school about the taking and intimacy with one’s partner. It was the one time I actually sough out my father to ask a question.
I had approached him in his office while he was doing business. He seemed focused so I thought that was a good time to approach him. Father was all business. Even with Maman. He was formal and specific. Its the only way I could think to describe my father. He was always matter-of-fact.
I had stood in front of his desk waiting until he acknowledged my presence after a few minutes, when he asked, “What is it, son?”
Standing in front of him, hearing the slight irritation in his voice, I hesitated. Maybe it wasn’t that important of a question.
My mind must have wandered because he cleared his throat, and in a firmer voice, said, “Son.” He leaned back in his chair, pen still in his hand. “What can I do for you?”
I sighed, frowning deeply, looking everywhere but at my father’s face.
“I heard something at school.”
He was quiet for a moment. “Okay….”
I looked at him, and he seemed curious.
“While I was with some of my friends, they were talking about the taking.”
